Pillow Talk and Body Language
by IDespiseTragedy
Summary: Greece's sensuous method of consuming food and drink turns the decorous Japan into a beast in bed. Heavy smut on a rainy day with a little food play.


Credits: Thank you so much to _Kleon Luminia_, _Forbiddensoul562, Wiccanangel12, _&_ Cazuki_ for beta reading; also thanking _U.N. Owenisher _for the comment

Disclaimer: Nah, _Hetalia_ ain't mine; sheesh!

Warnings: purple prosy PWP containing multiple rounds of reversible yaoi smut and excessive sap—sweet enough to churn your stomach and put holes on your teeth ^_~

Author's Note: Enjoy your birthday present, _katamari-jedi_!

Cultural Notes:

_Spanakopita_ = Greek savory pie made of chopped spinach, feta & ricotta cheese, onions, scallions, eggs, butter, olive oil, and seasonings layered with filo (phyllo) pastry

_Assyrtiko_ = white Greek wine grape indigenous to the island of Santorini used to make a structured white wine suitable for mid-term aging that has shown resistance to Phylloxera pest; its plantation requires arid volcanic-ash-rich soil

_Patatáto_ = one of the famous dishes in the Greek island of Amorgós consisting of mutton and potatoes stewed with herbs and special sauce

_Rakómelo psiméni_ = Amorgion regional drink made from pomace brandy, honey, sugar and spices and is served at room temperature

_Ephebos _= an adolescent age group or a social status reserved for that age in Antiquity, though this is more specifically meant for young men aged 17 − 18 in Greek mythology

* * *

**Pillow Talk and Body Language**

As was sung by many celebrated poets, the Island of Santorini majestically rose from the sea and guarded the unraveled mysteries of Atlantis. Earlier that afternoon, the two nations had explored the archaeological site of Akrotiri—a labyrinth of ancient Minoan settlements preserved below solidified lava for over millennia. It had only been for rare moments such as these that Greece extricated himself from his ever-present drowsiness; instead, a smile had recurrently graced his lips upon seeing shot after shot of prehistoric earthenware, richly-colored frescoes and masonry ruins that had filled Japan's camera memory card to the brim.

The host and his guest had been on their way to retrieve a spare memory card back in their shared lodging at Pyrgos, the highest point on the island, when sheets of rain had suddenly began pelting on them. No vacant taxi had been within sight; meanwhile, the rain had rapidly grown into an angry downpour.

"There!" Greece had exhorted, his finger pointing at the nearest shop, taking off towards it with Japan following closely. Together, they dashed inside that particular shop to purchase an umbrella.

The afternoon had faded into a darker shade of gray, and the day had shifted into a drearier one, with mud-colored clouds drooping gloomily over the thoroughfares. The street lamps had become nothing but feeble splotches of waning light casting a circular glimmer upon the drenched stone-paved paths.

The accommodation booked under Heracles Karpusi's name was an intimate resort, perfect for a fairy tale honeymoon. Perched on the summit of the island's caldera cliff, it featured picturesque views of the cubic white-washed houses and blue-domed churches archetypical of the traditional Cycladic style with meandering hiking trails, sunbaked beaches, and the windblown Aegean Sea as their backdrop. In addition to the bedroom, their suite was equipped with an elegant sitting room and also a deck in which they could take a dip in the small, private pool while enjoying the balmy Mediterranean breeze.

The moment they had arrived at the hotel, drenched from head to toe, a little more than half an hour after they had departed from that little shop, it had been Japan's sneeze that had induced Greece's suggestion that they should warm each other up. Although their shared umbrella had barely made any difference against the blustery wind, neither nation regretted the purchase; the cheap polyester rainshade had given them all the reason they needed to huddle together.

Now, the two nations were lying on the bed, basking in the afterglow of their salacious lovemaking by listening to the pitter-patter of the falling rain. The umbrella that they had purchased not two hours beforehand was now left neglected against the wall, near their entangled bare legs. Japan's hand roamed over the well-toned planes of his Grecian lover's abdomen, rubbing small circles into the flesh. Greece's fingers slowly, almost languidly, traveled across Japan's shoulder blades.

Glancing at the window, Greece remarked, "The rain doesn't show any sign of ceasing."

His companion hummed an agreement.

"Sorry, even though I wanted to give you the best of vacations, this heavy rain postpones our tour. There's no time to visit another site today, for the sun will set within an hour," Greece added.

Japan caressed Greece's brown hair as he delivered his reply, "It's all right. According to the weather forecast, there shall be no rain tomorrow. Our trip to Amorgós will be something to look forward to." Moving his fingers to trail them along Greece's jawline, Japan continued, "Besides, you have already given me the best time. Akrotiri is so fascinating, the _spanakopita_ and the _Assyrtiko_ wine we had for lunch were delicious, and…" Japan's voice trailed off and his cheeks became suffused with specks of cinnabar. "…this…"

Japan averted his gaze from Greece. How could he tell his Grecian lover that nothing—not even the splendor of ancient temples or the glory of convoluted statues—could ever make the man more admirable to him than the utter deftness of his hands in removing every piece of their garments? What could be sweeter than these hours of love, when they were together and their hearts raced as they surrendered into their own delights? Their bare skins had already been caressing each other's before Japan even became aware that the last of his clothing articles had left his skin.

To mask his embarrassment, Japan appended, "It's a pity that we are going to leave this place tomorrow."

"Ah, but I'm sure you will hold Amorgós as dearly as Santorini once you see some of my favorite places. One of them is the eleventh-century monastery of Panagia Hozoviotissa, which has a bizarre but picturesque feeling about it. The white monastery is carved into a precarious seaside cliff 300 meters high, built to resemble a chest of drawers. And as drawers that hold precious things, inside the monastery are a treasure of historical manuscripts, gospels, and vestments among other ecclesiastical paraphernalia."

Japan looked at his lover with slight bemusement. Didn't Greece know that no place on Earth could be displeasing to him as long as the two of them were together? Still, he refrained himself from interrupting the Greek's explanation.

"Then, in Chora, the island's capital, we can visit its thirteenth-century castle as well as its scenic squares, traditional Cycladic houses with bougainvillea trees in their courtyards, and Lilliputian whitewashed alleys. There's also the Venetian Fortress, over which windmills sunset is best viewed. I still remember the tavern that serves the best Amorgion _patatáto_ and _rakómelo psiméni _… yes, that would make a charming dinner for us. As for the morning after that, the reefs of Aegiali are waiting to be explored in a scuba diving itinerary."

Smiling, Greece brought his lover's hand towards his lips. Ever so gently, he kissed the tips of Japan's rosy fingers and the flash of memory on how Japan had writhed and twisted and groaned underneath his body some previous twenty minutes was now swimming in his thoughts. The proverb that books were not to be judged by their covers must be true, he mused; otherwise, how else could it excuse the fact that behind the Japanese man's façade of decorous behavior, a no less eager roll of his lover's hips had responded against his every thrust?

Today's sex had been a slow, sensuous moment of intimacy that reminded them much of the time they had their first intercourse, when Japan had invited Greece to one of his hot springs in Hakone over four decades ago. Back then, Japan had willed himself not to moan, of which success had lasted only for the first few minutes. Afterwards, his wanton vocalization had echoed throughout the indoor_ onsen_ amid the sound of the splashing water and cypress walls. Greece had encircled his arms around Japan's waist and taken him again and again from behind until Japan had grown gradually louder and abandoned all embarrassment.

Come to think of it, they had copulated in the water yesterday, as well. After holding Japan with one of those long, promiscuous stares that had made the shorter man melt with desire, Greece had confessed, "I'm jealous of how the pool's water caresses your skin." The next thing Japan had known, a pair of strong arms were wrapped around him, a hard-on rubbing his groin, and kisses dashed passionately upon his skin. With all these, would he even want to hold back?

Today, however, they were piling up together in bed, skin against skin, with no water surrounding them to interrupt the flow of heat between their bodies.

As a country from whom an eight-hour tea ceremony had originated, Japan was not normally associated with impatience; and yet, when Greece began fingering him, it was so torturously slow that Japan felt like he would die before Greece could even enter him. Within minutes he was writhing against his taller lover, trying to get him to move his fingers faster. He rolled his hips in anticipation, but those two digits did not accelerate their sluggish glide. It was maddening, and he tried to tell Greece that, but the olive-skinned man would not allow their mouths to pull apart.

Greece kissed Japan's left ankle and he could feel it tremble against his shoulder. His kisses trailed down to Japan's calf before he resumed moving inside Japan.

Japan let out a tiny gasp. His manhood achingly hardened. He reached out both arms, wordlessly beseeching for the feeling of his passionate lover's neck in his embrace.

Greece took his own sweet time prolonging three more painstakingly sluggish thrusts before complying. He bent closer, allowing Japan's hands to reach his nape. His pelvis ground Japan's own with greater urgency, his penetration grew deeper, his erect flesh basked in the encasing heat of Japan's tightness.

The whimper that slipped from Japan's mouth was irrepressible. As the echoes of his own moans resonated throughout the whitewashed walls of limestone, schist, and volcanic ashes, the crimson-stained blush on his cheeks deepened. He bit his lip, apparently too abashed to emit another sound.

Although Greece spoke no words, his eyes pleaded, _'Why are you keeping me from hearing those seductive moans of yours?'_

Given that many European countries had forged their bonds since the Middle Ages, Greece and Japan's seven decades of relationship was still relatively new. Yet, this did not mean that the affinity they harbored with each other was worth any less than the other nations'. Japan's _history_ with other nations did not bother Greece. He wanted his lover's oriental beauty, his serene demeanor, his creative mind, his fondness for the feline species, his every trait. He longed for special moments between them, in which their distance dematerialized and the boundary of their foreignness vanished as in between two consecutive pages of a closed book.

'_οὐδ' ἄμμε διακρινέει φιλότητος ἄλλο, πάρος θάνατόν γε μεμορμένον ἀμφικαλύψαι.'__['Nothing shall part us in our love till Death at his appointed hour enshrouds us from the light of day.']*_

The current Greece opened the door of the minibar. As he took out a bottle of water, he asked his companion, "Are you thirsty?"

Upon seeing Japan's nod, Greece brought the bottle over, along with a bag of almonds he had purchased the previous day. He did not hand the water bottle to Japan until he had unsealed its cap. As Japan drank, after murmuring his thanks, Greece tore open the almond wrapper. Again, he gave his lover the food without taking any for himself.

"You are kind." Japan's fingertips brushed Greece's cheek before they went lower to accept the nuts—the first time they had met, it had never occurred to Japan that this laid-back nation would be such a devoted type of man. With his other hand, Japan passed Greece the water bottle, now with only a little more than half of its content remaining.

Receiving the bottle, his lover replied, "Only for you."

The decades Japan had associated himself with Greece made him realize that his lover's statement was no exaggeration. He had witnessed Greece's animosity towards Turkey on several occasions, and while Greece might not be totally indifferent to all other nations, he had never shown kindness similar to the extent with which he treated the Land of the Rising Sun. Specks of scarlet stained the tip of Japan's ears even as he tentatively inquired, "To what do I owe this privilege, Greece-san?"

"To the same reason that makes travelers run towards shade when scorched by the noonday sun."

"Urgency for comfort … how so?"

"There's nothing that's not urgent in the face of Love." The taller nation looked at him straight in the eye, no jocularity whatsoever lacing his tone.

At this remark, Japan lowered his head and suddenly developed an utmost interest for the almond wrapper's packaging design. He even went as far as taking the most meticulous manner in examining letter upon letter of the Greek alphabet imprinted on packet's surface. Pausing only when he needed a nut or two, his eyes continuously scrutinized over and over the words that imparted where the product had been manufactured and its expiry date among other trivialities—even though he merely understood less than half of the foreign wordings before him.

Greece, on the other hand, sipped the mineral water in silence, his smoldering gaze fixed on his adorable lover. It would seem that in spite of the numerous moments the heat of their prurience had connected their bodies, Japan could never go past the blushing stage.

To break the awkward silence between them, Greece offered, "Would you like to hear the myth about almonds?"

"Yes, please." Japan lifted his head as he responded; in doing so, he gazed at the beads of water sparkling like diamonds down Greece's chin.

"This is a story my mother once told me," Greece began, pretending he took no notice of how Japan's mouth were parted in breathless anticipation while the oriental nation watched him drink. "Upon his victorious homeward journey after the siege of Troy, the Athenian Prince Demophon, son of Theseus, sojourned in Thrace, where the king gave him the hand of his daughter, Phyllis, in marriage. Before Demophon sailed for Athens, subsequent to the nuptial celebration, Phyllis entrusted a casket containing the sacrament of the goddess Rhea in his care and warned him not to open it unless he had given up hope of returning to her."

Japan bit his lip, and Greece knew his lover suspected that Demophon's curiosity got the better of him and a curse of some sort would befall him for opening the casket. Still, the Mediterranean nation appreciated his lover's resolution not to interrupt him despite such an obvious cliché approaching in the story. Greece continued with the development that Japan had envisioned, halting with the sentence: "There we come into the realms of conjecture."

"As usual, myths that were passed on from generation to generation tend to deviate into multiple versions. One account claims as follows: Having landed in Cyprus, Demophon was so horrified by the object he found in the casket that he took flight, but he accidentally fell on his own sword when his horse stumbled. Another variant recounted it was the goddess' curse that caused Demophon's ship to be delayed in reaching its destination, for it hit upon rocks and suffered from leakage. At any rate, Demophon reached Thrace later than the promised time. Hence, the worried sick Phyllis died of grief— or, some say, hanged herself— on her ninth visit at the spot where they supposed to meet. The place was called '_Enneodos_,' which means 'Nine-way' or 'Nine-journey' since then."

Japan's eyebrows were bristling. Although Greece was glad to receive Japan's undivided attention, he could not help but feel guilty for his dearest friend's unease. He took a few nuts out of the package before continuing his narration in a more sympathetic tone, "The goddess Athena took pity on Phyllis and thus, transformed her into an almond tree."

Gently, without breaking his storytelling, Greece pushed Japan, who was sitting crossed-legged, onto the mattress until the shorter nation laid on his back. Even then, he did not stop his storytelling, "When Demophon arrived at long last, he could only then touch her rough bark in lieu of soft skin."

Placing a single almond on Japan's collarbone, Greece continued, "Nevertheless, in response to his embrace, the tree branches bloomed into flowers instead of leaves—a peculiarity almond trees were known for ever since."

Japan's breath hitched, but he showed no inclination of trying to resist the repeated action on his other collarbone. It was not until Greece had placed more almonds on Japan's chest and diaphragm did he conclude his tale, "Every year thenceforward, the Athenians danced in their honor."

His body shivering, Japan breathed through his mouth, cautiously minding the rise and fall of his chest, which shook the scattered almonds across his body. He watched as his lover's mouth covered the juncture of his thighs, just above his genitals and sluggishly clamped the lone almond between that pair of luscious lips. He squirmed as the taller nation's breath blew warm puffs against his pubic hair.

Greece's expedition then continued upwards, swallowing the almonds one by one in a painstakingly slow manner. When he reached Japan's nipple, he swirled his tongue around the nub so deliberately that his lover's manhood twitched in the process.

After Greece finished the last almond on Japan's breastbone, he leaned over to kiss the reclining nation fully on the mouth. His Japanese lover kissed him back zealously, reaching up to run a pair of hands through the thicket of his brown hair whilst moving a gliding tongue around the insides of the his mouth. Japan's ivory-colored fingers caressed the sides of the Greek's neck, the delicateness of those fingertips raising thrills along the expanse of his skin and bringing a spike of delight to radiate from within his core.

Greece continued to climb on top of the shorter nation, straddling him and grinding on Japan's lap as their tongues engaged in a heated battle. As he pressed his hips down into the hollow of Japan's thighs, Japan lowered his hands to fondle his rear. The Greek's manhood throbbed with need as his lover squeezed the cheeks of his rear, pressing him closer against the satiny body below.

There were tingles all the way down to Japan's toes as his eyes riveted upon Greece: sturdy shoulders with prominent clavicles, superbly-chiseled pectorals and abs, unblemished skin pulled taunt over a pair of jutting hip bones, sumptuous rondure of thighs and calves. One look and it became clear where Classical and Neo-Classical sculptors had obtained their inspiration. His head drifted into bliss; how ardently he admired the entirety of Heaven that hovered just above his reclining figure! His lascivious fingers then shifted upwards, tracing the dimples of his lover's well-endowed buttocks.

Greece himself stared down at the writhing man splayed atop the sheets below him. Each contour fueled his thirst and each curvature fired his obsession, leaving him craving for more. His eager flesh rose between his thighs, its weight against Japan's stomach and stroking their bodies in synchrony.

But Japan intoned, "If it isn't too great a liberty, I would be very much inclined to take you."

It never failed to amuse Greece how Japan managed to preserve his mien even in bed, though this was nowhere near as surprising as the raven-haired nation's whimsical mood for dominating him. In truth, he wanted to take the Japanese man once again, to hold the petit body in his arms once again, to smother his beloved with every passion residing within him.

Upon seeing the hesitation clouding Greece's eyes, Japan stuttered, "B-but if you'd rather not be at the receiving end today…"

But Greece shook his head and spoke ever so gently, "My love, as long as I'm with you, I don't mind."

When Japan evinced a smile of relief, Greece mirrored his smile. The moment his own gaze met his lover's, the world stopped spinning, as if his sole purpose in life was to please Japan—his love, his life, his one and only thought. His soul mate.

'_Mία ψυχὴ δύο σώμασιν ἐνοικοῦσα.' ['A single soul dwelling in two bodies.']** _

The empty plastic bottle at the nightstand reminded Greece that he had finished the last squirt of lubricant in preparing Japan earlier. Hence, he coated two of his fingers with his own saliva, and then slid them in, all the way to the knuckles. He tipped his head back. His rectal muscles tightened around the fingers in a discomforting constriction, but since this was for his beloved Japan… Squatting, Greece positioned himself over the tip of Japan's erect length, which eagerly pulsated with the thirst for carnal desire and glinted with droplets of early desire. He lowered himself down onto it and facilitated his lover's entry, panting from his effort.

But just as the head plunged inside, Japan did not fail to notice Greece's suppressed wince. Through such minimal preparation, he could guess that the friction was agonizing. It had been months since he had last penetrated Greece and now the Greek became very tight inside, pain outwardly expressed by his firm but unconscious squeezing of the former's girth. To Japan, it felt as though his length was being denied of his own blood.

"Greece-san…" Japan pushed Greece away from him with the gentlest gesture he could muster, for he was aware of the guilty look in his lover's handsome countenance.

Although Greece opened his mouth, no words came out. His mind ached tosay something, anything, so that Japan would not have to worry about him. Yet, his body could do no more than watch helplessly as Japan rose from the bed, leaving only a trail of phantom warmth in his wake.

Japan leisurely approached the sitting room table. "Is it true that ancient Greek athletes used to carry olive oil for personal hygiene?"

"Yes," Greece answered. His legs shifted, ready to go after Japan to hug him; and yet, a part of him hesitated just in case his partner needed some personal space for a moment.

"They carried the oil in a small container called '_aryballos_.' The earthenware has a wide, flat mouth, and a single small handle. When the pot was invented in the ninth-century B.C., it had a spherical body, but then, its shape evolved into ovoid, conical, and even to non-geometric shapes, such as a foot or an owl." With every word, the tension within Greece escalated. He swallowed and then added, "Later, the _aryballoi_ had turned into a form with flat base and some even graced a second handle."

"Like this?" Japan inquired as he walked back from the table with a small glass bottle of olive oil.

"Yes, that's one possible variation." Greece did not let his gaze off Japan. The oriental nation then slowly uncapped the bottle.

Having arrived at the edge of the bed again, Japan leaned over the sitting Greek. Without touching the reclining man, Japan assessed Greece with his penetrating gaze, sluggishly traveling over his features as if he were refreshing his memory of his lover's every curve in meticulous detail.

'_That stare again.'_ Greece found his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He had been acquainted with Japan's most lubricious techniques in bed for years, and yet, at times like this, a mere eye contact from those dark pupils made him feel even more naked than he already was.

"Tell me, Greece-san, when an _ephebos_ bade another to rub the oil onto his body, did they do it this way?"

Japan poured some oil onto his palm, licked it, and then grabbed Greece by both ankles with a force enough to send his taller lover tumbling back against the mattress. Spreading the Greek's legs wide apart, he dipped his head in-between them, his tongue poised for work. As he nuzzled between the thighs, the musky whiffs of his partner's orifice strayed over him, causing ripples of pleasure to surge through his body and driving him on. It smelled manly—the enticing scent that solely belonged to Heracles Karpusi.

Greece could not help but wail a complicated series of slatternly rising vowels when Japan's oil-coated tongue found its way through his opening—first slowly, then with vehement urgency, then a change in pace and rhythm, then all over again until he overflowed with need. Slither, slither, slither went the serpentine tongue. His lower part was lifted off the mattress to meet Japan's face and streaks of olive oil trickled down his pelvic arch, then at the sensitive spot between his rear crevice and sac.

Japan stiffened his tongue, but kept his excavation slow; he probed every nook and cranny that he came across. Ceaselessly surging through the taller man, he dug deeper, thrusting his tongue in and out of Greece.

Greece shivered. The sensitive base of his sac was rubbing against the bridge of Japan's nose while Japan's cheekbones were nestling on his curvy backside. As the Greek gripped against the bed sheet around him, he wondered if his lover was smirking, but if Japan were, the oriental nation sure knew how to do so without lessening Greece's desperate wanting of him. The wondrous repertoire of that heavenly tongue continued uninterruptedly with relentless delves, provoking another mewl to pour out from Greece's mouth.

The abrupt jerking of the Greek man's hips was not making Japan's expedition easy, yet it was something unpreventable—not when that slick tongue swirled and twirled and whirled inside him. Even so, Greece did not writhe away when Japan held him down and finished what he had started before sliding back out.

Stepping onto the bed, Japan supported Greece's weight with his legs. His hands were pouring more oil—this time to coat his erection. No sooner had Japan recapped the bottle than Greece sensed a nudge of hot flesh at his crotch. His breath hitched as he perceived the Japanese snapping his hips forward—that was all the warning he received before his lover was inside him. Soon, Japan's hands returned to Greece's ankles, holding them high, while the resealed olive oil bottle fell neglected on the bed with a thud.

Blood rushed into Greece's head. He had the full view of his inclined body, the curve of his backside cushioned firmly against Japan's groin, and the trickles of olive oil cascading down to his abs and backside. He was at the total mercy of his lover's overpowering figure above; those dark brown eyes could even devour him with their prurient stare alone. A threatening twist began to coil inside the Greek's stomach. He shuddered. This domination was more humiliating than he had prepared for.

Deliciously humiliating.

Japan withdrew slowly, so tantalizingly slow, until he was all but completely out of Greece. Then he wasted no more time to push back down, a lot further this time, satisfying the need to sink gently but determinedly into the insatiable heat of Greece's cleft. The Greek held his breath, exhaling explosively the moment his lover shoved into him again in one powerful thrust that made his head reel. Japan pulled backwards again even more unhurriedly than before, stretching his partner's insides so much that Greece forgot to breathe. By the fourth time, he pushed forward as far as the Greek's body could receive his advances.

With his lover's virility buried so deep inside him, Greece could not help moaning. The Japanese's sac of flesh nudged at his entrance, and by the feeling of it, the said sac was viscid with splotches of Greece's seminal fluid from their earlier copulation—the proof of his ardor towards Japan. He could not help letting out a contented sigh as his memory replayed how such fluid had made its way between Japan's smooth, hairless thighs.

Japan's hands grasped firmly against his hips as the shorter nation took control once more. With another fluid motion, the Japanese rammed himself within his depths, slamming against the tender bud of the Greek's aching pleasure. Slowly moving in and out of Greece, Japan drove steadily into the other's welcoming body. The rhythm had started: a rigorous thrust in and a torpid pull out, bringing the Greek closer towards the blissful peak and then pulling him back, over and over until he was groaning incoherently, groaning his partner's name again and again.

Japan clenched his jaw, his heart galloping its way up to his throat. How he desired this body—craving for every curvature, longing for every protuberance and yearning for every crevice! Everything was all hot and squishy and slippery inside Greece. It felt good. So good. At this rate, he was going to come too soon. When Greece had entered him, the sense of fullness was enough to engulf him with an ocean of pleasure. But now, a thrill of superiority currently ran through him as he took his partner to a standing position.

If he was not careful enough, he could end up hurting his beloved Greece—that much he knew, yet he could not hold back. Right now, he only wanted to drown in this unstoppable passion, to carve the proof of his love into Greece's whole being. He had always marveled at the Greek's many wonders, from the hair curling like hyacinth clusters, full of blooms around his head, to the tall nation's manly physique. At that moment, however, with his lover's legs coiled around his waist, Japan did not dare guess that he would ever be more fascinated at the thighs that flexed and shivered each time his hips rolled and plunged just a little bit deeper.

"Forgive me, Greece-san!"

Greece was barely aware of his own faint "What for?" until Japan articulated through gritted teeth and ragged breathing, "I intended … to treat you lovingly, but … I have lost control … over myself…"

A sense of pride flooded through Greece; if his charm alone managed to overwhelm Japan to such a magnitude…

Like an avalanche engulfing the land at the slightest trigger, Japan slid his member to the hilt and started thrusting with reckless abandon. He lunged forward in harder, sharper thrusts that made his earlier gentleness seem like a mere dream. His hips jerked and convulsed, thighs and buttocks tensing as he pumped into the sudden spasm of his lover's inner walls.

Withal, Greece wrapped his legs around Japan's hips, not wanting to let go and not wanting it to end. Truly, had he not known an entity named Honda Kiku, he would have found it unbelievable to be penetrated so fiercely by such a refined nation. He squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of the Japanese man's in-and-out piston, whimpering as his partner thrust at the right angle to hit his prostate. Clutching the white bed sheet, the Mediterranean nation was lost in the sea of rapture, rising and falling with each surging wave.

Japan kept moving, kept pounding into Greece until the taller nation felt like he was going insane from this overwhelming sensation. The aureate rays of the sun refused to hide away the pleasured fluttering of Greece's eyes as he was thrust into. The caldera walls did nothing to veil the embarrassment of his delight, shamelessly echoing the Greek's vainly-muted gasps and laborious panting.

As Japan watched the Greek man's face absorb every flicker of delight and cry out his name, he felt the juices rising from within him and through his rigid shaft. With that in mind, he intensified his movements even more, drawing them both closer to the peak of their unbearable pleasure.

The glassy look in Greece's olive green eyes became the utmost effect of the delirious state where he was irrevocably immersed. His peak took place outside his control, its rush of sensation so abrupt that it caught both of them off-guard. His muscles rippled around Japan and his lips parted in a non-verbal murmur, too oblivious to register his surroundings to utter his apology for climaxing early.

Despite allowing himself a tiny complacence, Japan continued to thrust into Greece without giving his lover a moment of rest. The Grecian figure was no longer just another nation; he was a magical, potent treasure that Japan could never dream of laying his hands anywhere else. A divine gift specially created for him.

Greece shuddered, his skin afire, prickling anew about all the spots Japan touched him. The recurrent strokes of Japan's virile length drove Greece's orgasm harder, sending the spurts of seed high along his chest to slide down his ribs, shooting again and again until the last little wells of it simply slid down his deflating member to his loins. The slick heat felt so good around him as Greece rode out his climax silently and then resumed making helpless groans as Japan moved faster still.

Thanks to their frequent dalliances, Japan knew that Greece liked it best to climax with his penetrating partner pulling halfway out and stayed momentarily still. However, right now, Japan's unrelenting invasion was far from displeasing the Mediterranean nation; this was what Greece wanted, even if those words would never cross his mouth. His vision blurred in the midst of every permeating feeling, blacked, and blurred to life again. He could feel Japan swell within him, and the shorter nation's presence filled him with groans, sweat, frictions, and his entire being.

At last, with a near inaudible sigh, Japan stilled completely. His eyes narrowed and his lips parted as his manly liquid rushed out. Without pulling out, he let himself fall forward, sagging onto the mattress together with the larger frame beneath him. As their two bodies crumpled back against the bed, Japan heard a whimper; the landing drove him farther inside Greece by means of an impossibly deep thrust.

Japan stayed inside Greece, continuing to hold his lover even though his fingers had gone limp, overcome by the need to spend himself between the limbs of the gorgeous entity that captivated him. On and on their bodies shivered. They were one, not only in flesh, but also in soul.

Even five minutes later, Greece still sensed the presence of his lover's spheres resting against the slick crevice of his rear. Japan's softened member was still inside him and Greece was close to blushing at the mere thought. As Greece raised himself on quivering legs, he felt the flesh slide out and something burning dribble down his thigh. He rolled to the side, lying down on his stomach next to his partner and let out a contented sigh. "Our sex today reminds me of a scene from one of the _doujinshi_ you drew five years ago."

"Which one?"

"The one about the noble thief who targets only the wicked and then distributes his loot to paupers, but there is one treasure he adamantly refuses to share: the innocent son of a vile merchant…" Greece smiled. "…and that boy's jaw, eyes, nose bridge, and hairstyle _conveniently_ look like mine."

Japan recalled the aforementioned doujinshi at once. It had not been unintentional that the thief's figure bore certain resemblances to his own.

Greece continued, "In that doujinshi, you were disguised as a quiet maiden who was to be married into the family, but ravished me even while wearing a frilly bridal gown. You stole my first kiss as I attempted to scream. You turned a deaf ear to my pleas and pushed me down onto the bed. You spread my legs wide apart despite my embarrassment. You thrust yourself into me in the sweetest possible way and invaded my sensitive spots. You kept pounding into me no matter how much I cried. You rammed into me again and again until my repulsion turned into desire and my agony, into pleasure. In the end, you took me away and made me your partner in crime and in bed for the rest of our lives."

Japan became flustered at once. "B-but I would never force myself upon you in real life!"

"Even though this part of you is growing tauter with every word I say?" Greece's fingers teasingly went down Japan's pubes. With the full knowledge of how much dirty talk during intimacy turned his lover on, a silent laughter shook the Greek's chest.

The cochineal shade on Japan's cheeks and ears deepened, while mortification dripped from every syllable he articulated. "Greece-san, I assure you that I would not violate your body … one word from you, and I will stop."

A simper was now carving itself across Greece's lips. "Relax, I'm aware you aren't the kind of man who'd bring others discomfort just to fulfill your fantasies. And what's more, I enjoy it when you're gentle, but I love your wild side even more."

No sooner had Greece spoken than he felt warm breath puffing against the side of his neck. Japan's words laved themselves over the cavity of his spiral-shelled ear. "In that case, prepare yourself."

The next moment, the bed dipped from Japan kneeling behind Greece. Within seconds, his nibbling teeth clamped Greece's earlobe and his insatiable hands caressed Greece's flanks. As always, whenever Japan did those, Greece's heart raced for the bursts of silvery bubbles.

A familiar weight draped along Greece's backside as Japan's ivory-colored abdomen aligned over his olive-skinned back. The shorter nation's hand guided the Greek's chin to turn and meet his lover in a possessive kiss. Japan sucked a breath away, forcefully plundering his mouth with his tongue. Slick. Ravishing. Predatory.

Japan pinned his partner face down on the mattress, holding him captive by the wrists. Settling behind the Greek, he then started kissing from the nape down along the spine. As he moved, his skin dragged across his lover's own in a delightful slide and his manhood brushed between his lover's thighs, causing the taller man to pant slightly.

Japan paused, bearing in mind how sensitive their bodies were after two intense rounds of intimacy. "Have you had enough?"

"Never enough, when it comes to you." Greece raised his hips and spread his legs further apart, beseeching for more; sex with Japan was best tasted in multitudes, after all.

Instead of taking what he had been offered immediately, Japan reached for Greece's deflated masculinity. It was hypersensitive from the climax a few minutes prior and a few strokes were all he needed to coax life back into the limp organ. With his lover's melodious groans as his reward, he continued to pump the tensing flesh more keenly until it swelled.

Only then did Japan trace Greece's cleft, parting his cheeks to gain access to his entrance. He inched forward to line his own eager flesh up with the Greek's opening. Tenderly yet unhesitatingly, he pushed the head of his erection into the man below him. Then he backed off slightly and re-entered, his hands settling possessively on the taller nation's hips. The torrent of pleasure traveled throughout the two bodies the moment he plunged into his lover.

"Ah!"

Japan started off with barely-there pushes into Greece and heightening in pace until he was ramming his hips forward and drawing long groans from his lover's mouth. The raven-haired nation twisted his hips and that sparked itself anew inside his partner, spiraling through the Greek's groin.

Unlike before, this position disallowed Greece from clinging to Japan. Nevertheless, it did not prevent him from matching Japan move for move, impaling himself on his partner's vigor, taking him fully with one push. He then accelerated his movements, swaying forward and thrusting himself back onto his lover, as he held him with a gaze that would never let him escape.

Overwhelmed by fierce passion, Japan tightened his grip on Greece's hips and plunged into the taller man sharper and sharper. His desire was of the same burning fervor as he pounded into his partner again and again with eager exploration. He rolled his hips, while his hands firmly pulled Greece back in a yank that forced him deep inside of the nation he treasured more than life itself. There was affection in his movement, as well as a wholehearted determination to evoke a growing cacophony of whimpers from his lover.

"What do you feel?" Japan panted.

Greece moaned out in ravishing agony as he arched, accepting every inch of his lover's length; how was he to concentrate on that question amid all the heat in his loins and the song in his veins?

Propping himself up with his elbows, Greece turned his head. His lover responded to his unspoken invitation with a firm seal on the lips. Their slick tongues slipped easily between the seams of each other's lips with practiced ease. When Japan put a hand around Greece's neck to deepen the kiss, a raspy moan emerged from the taller man's throat.

'_Σ' αγαπώ. Δυνατά. Τρελά. Αναίτια, ανεξήγητα και ανεξέλεγκτα. Ούτε για μια στιγμή δεν μου δόθηκε η δυνατότητα να επιλέξω αν θα σε αγαπούσα ή όχι … ήταν εκεί πριν από μένα και θα έμενε ακόμη κι όταν εγώ θα είχα φύγει.'__['I love you. Overwhelmingly. Madly. Unreasonably, inexplicably and inextricably.__Not even for a single moment was I given the option to choose whether I would love you or not … it was there before me and it will remain long after I am gone.']***_

After their fervent kiss, Greece's head tumbled toward the sheet again, while his hips rocked backwards as a demand for more. Indeed, before Japan was carnally acquainted with Greece, he had never imagined that the incarnation of sloth—a country known for his somnolent habit during the world meetings and his indolent pastimes spent with the feline company—could be so tireless in sex.

Japan's chest tightened; his partner instilled within him a flame that, despite its familiarity, made him feel like he was going to break into hopeless fragments. How he relished the way Greece moaned and wiggled and the way the Greek's insides clenched around him at the place where they were connected! The heated sheath pressing around a part of him dispelled every bit of his self-restraint. He shoved himself into the Mediterranean man with such ardent fervor that it felt like their flesh was being melded together into a singular stream of concupiscence.

Upon hearing Japan's ragged breathing, a mixture of pride and joy flooded Greece's soul. He knew that, as was the case with most nations in the world, he was not the only nation Japan had ever slept with. And yet, no one in existence could turn the demure Honda Kiku into a rutting beast other than Heracles Karpusi. The Greek's moans grew louder each time his Japanese lover moved. With the sinuous motion of his hips, he thrust back, meeting his partner with equal vivacity as if his life would be forfeited once Japan stopped sustaining him with passion.

Still, it was a good thing that they were mating while lying down instead of standing up; Greece had no doubt that Japan's thrusts would have sent him careening into the floor any other way. He had lost himself entirely in the pleasure along with the roll of the Japanese man's hips. Japan knew how to play him like an instrument by choosing the precise angle of thrusts and the accurate timing of twists before pulling back just the right way to cause the taller man's lips to part with gasped cries of enthrallment. Greece shut his eyes; how could this nation, this man, Honda Kiku, conquer and revere him at the same time?

The familiar feeling somewhat akin to backdraft knotted in Greece's gut—that sublime, almost excruciating sensation that precedes ejaculation that speared through the juncture between his legs and expressed though the swelling of his manhood. A streak of his liquefied lust oozed from the tip of his shaft, trailed along his sac, and dripped down his thigh. The sensation was addictively enticing, and Greece emitted moans he had never heard himself make with any other nation.

As Japan thrust faster, Greece's whimpers grew louder. Compared to Europeans, Asians were modest when it came to sheer size; yet, when Japan breathed techniques to invigorate his performance, he never failed to reduce Greece's body to a needy jumble of flesh and lust. The Greek's knees weakened with every brush of the Japanese man's rigidity against his most intimate passage. His hips lurched, imploring his lover to bring him toward completion. Inside him, behind him, powerful thrusts jerked him forward into the waiting grip, striking deep within him that made pleasure burn through his veins like molten lava. His whole body was burning, his heartbeat thundering, his mind screaming with need for release. The tip of his shaft was dripping with every plunge Japan made.

Japan's fingers tightened near the base of Greece's erection, and the shorter man squeezed hard, drawing up to send sticky white spurts of semen out onto the Greek's chest. Even so, the only thing Greece was aware of when he came was Japan's name, how it rolled on his tongue like a prayer to the heavens, filling his breath, the air around him, everything. He melted into the bed, too far gone to do anything but savor the sensation of Japan inside him.

Japan gritted his teeth as his balls were filling up once more ready to shoot his load into his partner's passage. Greece erratically clenched around him, bringing the Japanese man closer to his own imminent climax. When the Greek panted his name in this chant-like trance, no sweeter music could Earth offer. Rising to his knees, he lifted his partner's hips off the mattress, buttocks sticking up, inviting him in. He shoved in harder, while letting the creased sheet muffle his lover's rapacious cries.

Again and again, Japan advanced with colliding bumps of hip and earnest slams of sac. His hips rolled as he clenched himself close, causing a shameless groan to escape from his lips whilst his masculinity pulsated and swelled. A shudder ripped down along his spine as he cried out and came. Quivering and rocking as his manhood swelled, he released himself into the spasm of his beloved's waiting flesh. He wanted to keep thrusting, but each time he tried to pull back, the exquisite sensations made him jerk forward again. Every surge and every spurt raptured from him, flowing hotly deep inside Greece. He managed one last intense eruption inside his Greek lover's most intimate orifice before his hips gradually slowed to a quiet halt.

Collapsing on top Greece, Japan tried to catch his breath. Even then, he still gripped his lover's hips to feel each shudder of their quivering bodies. His head dropped forward onto the slope of Greece's neck while his manhood softened and eventually slipped free on its own.

Seeing Greece's fingers curl over a fistful of bed sheet, Japan reached for those fingers and intertwined them together with his own, fusing their bodies together in an unspoken vow of love everlasting.

_「__愛しい__ギリシャ__よ、私__の__人生__の__残り__あなた__に__崇拝__する__以上__は__何も__欲しくない__。__」_

_('Itoshī Girisha yo, watashi no jinsei no nokori anata ni sūhai suru ijō wa nanimo hoshikunai.') ['O beloved Greece, I want nothing more than to worship you for the rest of my life.']_

If there were anything about Japan in which Greece had developed an addiction for, more than his mastery of amorous sports, it would be his embrace. Together, they spent endless minutes caressing each other, as though cuddling had become more essential than breathing itself. Serenity presided over the two nations as Greece relished Japan's weight upon him, chest rising and falling in syncopated rhythm.

Without preamble, Japan planted a love bite at Greece's nape that earned him a low grunt from his lover.

"Japan, you've left your mark on such a visible spot. Is this the way you declare that I am yours?"

"The same kind as the ones you have planted upon me." With that, Japan evinced a smile on his lips, which soon turned into little soft kisses against the Greek's skin, leaving a trail of marks in their wake.

Afterwards, Japan rolled towards his side and brought himself up to a seated position. He offered his arm to help Greece rise and do the same. Once the both of them were sitting side-by-side, facing the window, Japan leaned his head against Greece's shoulder.

As his arm wrapped around Japan's back, Greece murmured, "A poetess named Sappho, who lived during my mother's time, once wrote:_ 'From all the offspring of the Earth and Heaven, Eros is the most precious.'_"

Japan did not offer his reply in words, but caressed Greece's hair so affectionately. With the soundless music of his veins, he professed that this very Heracles Karpusi was his love, his breath, his soul, and the god of his skies.

The window offered the panoramic scenery of the lower town with its vernacular architecture and maze of cobbled pathways. In this gloaming, the white walls of the plastered gables darkened into a mystifying gray. Even the backdrop of the wine-dark Aegean Sea looked mellow and bewitching against the slanted light. Without them realizing it, the sun had sunken down the nadir of the western horizon and the rain had already ceased at one point during their intimacy. The first star scintillated above the Island of Santorini, and with the nightfall came a serenade that only two hearts in love could hear:

"_My beloved, if ever two were one in flesh and spirit, then surely we. _

_Even when we're continents apart, my heart is where you are."_

ΤΕΛΟΣ

* * *

* Quoted from_ Argonautica, Book 3 _by Apollonius Rhodius.

** Quoted from _The Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers, Book E, Aristotle_ by Diogenes Laertius.

*** Quoted from _S' agapo. Dunata. Trela. Anaitia, Anexegeta kai Anexelegkta._ composed & translated by Spiros Doikas.

TRIVIA: the first two quotations above are written in Classical Greek, but the third one is in Modern Greek.


End file.
